Breath of the Dead
by piratedragon
Summary: Though the curse has finally been cast aside, the curse is far from accepting of its fate. Now the curse has taken a more active role in its haunting, and this time it targets all who have touched its treasure.
1. A Monkey's Curse

Jack chewed on the edge of the gold coin, tasting yet again the beautiful flavor that was metal. Barbosa was always one to let him into the treasury and so he had come accustomed to the taste of gold and silver. But no coin or jewel had the taste of the treasure he held. The taste that Jack did not know was power, immortality. He squeaked, carrying the chained medallion with him as he scampered to the body of his former master. It was too late of course. The empty stare of the dead was obvious enough so that even the monkey knew. Barbosa was always kind to the creature, but Jack was too much of an animal to know what hate or revenge was. 

Still, the smell of death was intoxicating...dizzying...suffocating...

his blood ran cold...

his heart halted...

Jack knew...even the monkey knew before all amount of feeling left him...it was a different curse this time.

*Meanwhile, at Port Royal*

Norrington wasn't exactly upset that Jack Sparrow had escaped yet again. Nor was he that upset about the report of the Interceptor being blown to bloody bits. No, the matter with which he felt the deepest pain was one he felt least justifiable in. Besides she had the right to choose.

But a blacksmith...

The dawn was always chilly, the sea wind chapping Norrington's cheeks and lips. Painful though it was at times, he enjoyed it. Pain had become so much apart of his life. He rarely saw Ms. Swan anymore. His infrequent visits perished after the pirate raid, and Norrington only needed to speak with the Governor infrequently as well. He never saw the blacksmith either. His job was the only part of his life really. The sad, dull...dutiful job that was his.

The destruction of Barbosa's crew and reputation had made him famous, so Norrington would occasional receive a letter of congratulations or adoration. Sickening. All the letters reminded him of was the few precious moments...when he thought Elizabeth chose him. 

She had used him, betrayed him, and left him. Life had never been as brutal. He only hoped it would never be as brutal again. It was impossible for him to say he truly loved her. He loved her as much as social restrictions allowed a man to be. But even the thought of his feelings for her being misguided didn't heal the pain. A Commodore, a respectable, kind man, cast aside for a young, rash-acting blacksmith. The lowest of lows.

"Commodore," a familiar voice called to him. Norrington's swirling thoughts were jerked back to the docks. Norrington turned to meet his lieutenant. Gillette understood why the Commodore was acting so distantly, and so took pains to make sure Norrington stayed on task until the situation finally passed. "The east lookout claims there's a storm heading this way," Gillette told him.

It was an obvious statement. When Norrington looked out to the east, to the ocean, the dark clouds were proof enough. It was fitting. He only hoped the storm would wash away the pain and frustration that held him captive. "Bring the Dauntless back to tow. Tie her tight to the docks, I don't want her to run away either."

"Yes, sir," Gillette said, rushing off. 

"Lord knows she'll try," Norrington muttered when he was sure Gillette was out of range. "She'll try."


	2. Really Bad Eggs

"No, no…you have it all wrong," Jack said. He was drunk as hell, and quite frankly so was everyone else. The entire crew sat round the wooden table, half filled pints of Caribbean rum in their hands, Jack Sparrow at the head of the table, trying yet again to teach them the bloody stupid pirate song. 

Anamaria sat alone, away from the group. Purposefully avoiding the drinking, but somehow could never escape the stupidity that was man's. She rested a foot on the edge of the seat, elbow to knee, bracing her head with the palm of her hand over her eyes. 

"It goes…how does it go…" Jack stared off blankly into space, humming a bit… "We…we…"

Gibbs perked up. "We're rascals…"

Then Jack joined him, finally remembering. "We're rascals, scoundrels, villains…" The rest was drowned out by Jack gulping down the three remaining gulps. The rest of the crew followed the line 'drink up me hearties yo ho' before Jack jumped in again. "REALLY BAD EGGS!"

Anamaria rolled her eyes for the fourth time in the last twenty minutes. They had repeated the same verse over and over and over again so that even she, who had not wanted to learn any part of that bloody song knew it better than drunk Jack did. 'We're rascals, scoundrels, villains and knaves; drink up me hearties yo ho; we're devils and black sheep, really bad eggs; drink up me hearties yo ho…"

"Yo Ho, Yo ho-"

"A pirates life for me! Yes, we ALL KNOW THIS! Will you shut up!" Anamaria shouted at them. They all shut up.

"I'm sorry darling," Jack said, his face twisting into a drunk's overly concerned expression. "Did you want the solo part?"

She just stared at him, tired and shocked. She let her head drop back into her hands

"Yo Ho, Yo Ho, a pirates life for me!"

"Oh, I LOVE THIS SONG!"

*Returning to Port Royal*

"It seems that so long ago the pirates raided here," Elizabeth said looking off to the horizon.

"Yes," Will answered her. "Things certainty have settled down quickly."

It was late morning and the pair had decided to return to the fort view from which they had watched Jack Sparrow and the Black Pearl sail off. The soldiers hadn't seemed to mind Elizabeth's presence, though some were curious as to who her company was. However, for the most part they kept their minds in their own business.

"You know I never thought I'd be standing here," Will told her. "Just a few weeks ago, I had thought my life would amount to nothing more than what I had."

"I thought the same about my life. It is amazing what a few days on a pirate ship can do." Elizabeth smiled at him softly.

Will laughed.

"What?" Elizabeth asked.

"Is it always in your nature to understate situations?"

Elizabeth bit her lower lip and looked away. Will immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry," he said. 

"No, no, it's fine. It was an understatement." She smiled weakly. "I guess so many things happened that I just don't want to think about it."

They both watched the water a while, the subject of the last few days creating an awkward tension. 

"You know," Will started. "The worst moment of my life happened last week." He touched her hand. She took his. "It was when Barbosa had made the deal with me...Watching you fall into the water. The worst part was the thought that you would die on that island."

"The worst part of my experience was after Barbosa was killed. In the caves…your face…when you said my fiance would be wanting to know I'm safe. It was terrible." She sighed.

Elizabeth heard the wind whistle, the sound as chilling as death. "Did you hear that?"

"Yes," Will answered unconcerned. "It was hard to tell you that. But I didn't want to make you feel worse about you're decision. It was yours to make."

"No, not that…the wind."

Will looked confused. "What wind?"

The sound came again. No it wasn't wind, she finally realized. It was something else. She swallowed looking out to the ocean. The water was red…not just red. It looked molten like lava, red and orange and yellow swirling in on itself.

"Elizabeth what's wrong?"

She didn't answer. His voice echoed far off in the distance. The sky was black with clouds. The air smelled like ash and hurt to breathe. Elizabeth tried to step back but stumbled. It felt like she was falling…falling off a cliff into the flames.

She had in fact stepped back, but her foot had met empty air instead of the floor and she started to tumbled back down the stairs. Will had grabbed her by the wrist, but the force with which Elizabeth had fallen drug him down with her. When they had landed on the concrete, Elizabeth was crying, sealing her eyes shut with all her might.

"Elizabeth…" Will said, scrambling up and leaning over her. He took her hand and petted her face. "Elizabeth it's okay…what happened."

Her eyes snapped open. She immediately stopped crying. "Where am I?" she asked, surprisingly calm.

"You stepped back suddenly and tripped down the stairs," Will answered still concerned. "What happened? You looked as if you saw something."

"I tripped?" Elizabeth said, picking herself up. "I don't remember..."

"What happened?"

"What are you talking about?" She touched his face, smiling at his worried expression. His expression didn't fade, she lost her smile. "What happened?"

"Are you two all right there?" a familiar voice said. Will looked up to see two red coats approaching.

Mullroy knelt and helped Elizabeth up. "You all right miss?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"You took quite a tumble there," Murtogg said.

Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you," she said to Mullroy. "I am fine."

"Can you breathe all right?" -Murtogg.

"Yes-" -Elizabeth

"Cuz' if you can't breathe it could be 'cuz the corset."-Murtogg

"No I'm"-Elizabeth

"Did you have to say that?"-Mullroy

"What?"-Murtogg

"About the corset?"-Mullroy

"What?"-Murtogg

"It's not entirely proper."-Mullroy

"Sparrow said it caused the last fall."-Murtogg

"No he didn't."-Mullroy

"Yes he did."-Murtogg

Will slowly took Elizabeth by the hand and lead her away from the arguing pair.

"Even if he did, that's no way to talk in public."-Mullroy

"But Sparrow-"-Murtogg

"Are you going to do what a pirate does?"-Mullroy

"No."-Murtogg

"Then there's no need to talk about lady underwear in public."-Mullroy

"I was just seeing if she was all right was all."-Murtogg

"And if it had been the queen of Britain I suppose you would asked if her hose were bothering her."-Mullroy

"No."-Murtogg

"Like I said, there's no need to be discussing it." They both turned back and…there was no one there. Mullroy gently smacked Murtogg on the back of the head. "See there you've gone and done it again. If we had been guarding the Dauntless they could have stolen the ship and we'd have been hanged for sure."

"They wouldn't have stolen the ship."

"We'd still be hanged."

"No we would-"

"Gentlemen," Gillette yelled at them from his office. "Back to your post."

"Told you it was your fault." Mullroy said walking back.

"No it wasn't."


	3. A Bad Hand Dealt

Will Turner was far from amused. What was she thinking, trying to pretend like nothing happened? He drug her into the blacksmith shop and locked the door. 

"Will, I don't know what you're so upset about. It is making me nervous-"

"Nervous?" Will asked throwing her arm down at her side. "That's it? Well, I am well beyond just nervous. Something happened to you and I want to know what."

"Well, I would like to know too, because I don't know what you're talking about." She sighed, and suddenly winced in pain.

Will jumped towards her, gripping her shoulders with both hands in case she was going to fall again. She gripped the back of her head with the palm of her hand. 

"You must have bruised your head when you fell," Will told her, smoothing her hair down gently. 

"I'm fine," she said slightly out of breath. "I just need to sit down is all."

Will led her to the only chair, and waited until she was seated before letting her go. "How hard did I fall?" She asked, trying to massage her skull.

"Hard enough to drag me down with you," Will said quite seriously. Elizabeth smirked. 

"We're probably worried about nothing, just the excitement of the last few weeks catching up to me is all."

Will reluctantly nodded. Perhaps that was all. Throughout the whole ordeal she never broke. It was the stress. 

He forced himself to believe he wasn't trying to convince himself.

*At Tortuga*

Anamaria couldn't remember why she hadn't left the rock of Tortuga earlier than she had. Oh wait, yes she did. The damned Captain Jack stole her boat. It had taken her years to wrestle up enough money playing cards and such to buy that boat. She guessed it was ironic that again, her leaving depended on him.

She could steal the Pearl. But the crew…how loyal would they be? The lot of them trusted Jack and liked him more than not. She had to admit, it was hard to hate the scalawag. 

She snapped back to the table. She had nothing at all in the means of a poker hand. Though the Queen of Spades had been her saving grace in previous years, being the highest card in this particular hand wasn't the most encouraging of aspects. She threw her two of hearts and five of clubs face down on the table.

The other four grit-faced mucks were watching their own hands, scheming away. She had played with two before, and they had no doubt remembered her as soon as she arrived. The two and their other friends had flanked her immediately and wanted a reimbursement for the money she had "stolen." Rather than being beaten to a bloody pulp, she agreed to their little game.

The dealer, the fat man with multiple mud crusted chins, gave her two other cards.

Damn. Another two and five, diamonds and spades this time. Anamaria glanced up at her competition. The one directly to her left had nothing at all, his face gave it all away. The one left of that had something small; a pair, three of a kind tops. The others she hadn't played with before, and had no way of reading their odd expressions, though the fact that one folded helped her odds. She kept her eyes blank and her face slack. 

A two, a five, an eight, nine and queen. Worthless luck. She threw two shillings in. The direct left folded immediately, the next met and rose the pot two additional shillings. The last pig met the raise. Anamaria rose three more. The one to her right folded.

A one on one, now. The left man (was his name Duke?) met her three and rose three more. 

It would be foolish to glance at her hand again. He would know that she didn't have a thing if she looked. She threw in eight more shillings, watching him blankly the entire time.

They just stared for a minute and a half. She could see his mind working. The pot was high now. A good thirty shillings or more, Anamaria really wasn't counting. Another minute.

Finally, Duke huffed and scowled, throwing down his hand. Anamaria smirked and gently laid her god forsaken winning hand face down on the table. She reached for the shillings.

"Not so fast, gypsy," one of the newcomers told her, his hand suddenly around her wrist. "Your voodo witch craft may work in other ports but not here." He flipped her five cards over and glared. 

"Devils work…" One man muttered. Another drew a sword.

Behind the pig faced dealer, Anamaria saw a familiar figure…or what she thought to be a familiar figure. The man looked like Jack. There was only one pirate who dressed like that, but instead of usual Jack fashion the figure walked stiffly and upright. Stalking and yet floating to the front door. What the devil…

"Witch!" The yells were increasing by the second.

"You think that only a man can bluff a hand such as that. Believe me I have won with worse hands. I can assure you of that." She drew her own weapon; a small dagger to be sure, but it was enough to draw attention. The hand that was still locked hovering over the pot was ignored, slowly scooping up coins, letting them slip down Anamaria's sleeve. Five…

"You want to dispute my win, or are you all just bluffing?" She asked them. Ten…

"You're not walking away with our money."

Fifteen.

"Fine…" Eighteen…nineteen, no that was two, twenty. Happy that she was walking away with what she came with, Anamaria pulled her hand away from the still heaping pot. "Consider this a gift," she told them and turned away. They remained scowling but let her leave without incident. Once she was within the safety of the darkened streets she hustled in what seemed to be the direction Jack was heading, slipping her shillings back into her money pouch. 

Just when she was about to give up her chase, she found him. He had gone back to the docks, but instead of boarding the Pearl he passed the ship, following the docks west until it seemed as if he was willing to walk right into the sea.

"Jack!" She hollered at him. He didn't turn around. Blasted Drunk. "Jack!" Holding her sleeve closed, she began to jog towards him. He didn't stop walking. What was wrong with him? "Ay, Sparrow!"

Splash.

She jumped into a sprint, running until she had reached him. He was struggling to tread water. He finally grasped the dock.

"That will teach ya, eh Sparrow?" She said laughing, Pulling out the rest of her shillings and stuffing them into her pouch.

"What the bloody hell happened?" He asked once her had drug himself back up.

"You let your drunk mind wander too far off and decided you were god enough to walk on water."

"No, no, no." He told her. His mouth hung open and he blinked his eyes against the sting of the salty water. "I wasn't past my first pint of rum…nest thing I know…I'm drowning."

Shaking her head at him, Anamaria shoved him in the direction of the Pearl. Idiot. She started after him. A bit of cold metal brushed up against her arm. Stopping in her tracks, she fished around in her sleeve. She didn't think she had missed one…

When she felt it's uneven edge…its unusual size…she scooped it up and brought it out. Even in the dark of night she knew what it was. A chain hung from a hole drilled into the gold coin. Her jaw dropped and her blood chilled. No…

She tightened her grip around it. No one will ever know, she thought when she hurled it into the water. She forced her breathing back to normal, and turned back around.

The shock wave that followed made her heart skip a beat but she didn't let herself stop walking away. She rushed to the ship and stayed below deck, until it was time to leave. She refused to believe the curse of the Aztec gold had rose again…and she would be damned if she let herself be stuck in the middle of a war again. But then again, she would be damned either way.


	4. Two Plans

As the Black Pearl left once more from the port of Tortuga, Jack rummaged through the crates and barrels in the belly of the ship. There were a few small leaks, but Jack did not care. Now, he didn't much care about anything.

He clasp the relatively large, chain less medallion in his paws as he scampered around. He wanted to make sure there would be no escape this time. No mistakes. The woman wouldn't be able to save him. He wouldn't be able to save himself. 

It wasn't as though Jack Sparrow was all that important, but it was well known that the pirate had much luck in the way of the world and had various connections with those whom Cortez wanted; the one who ruled with the most power, and who held the empire in his hands. Sparrow would become a mere pawn in that man's destruction. 

Finally resting on a crate stored in the corner of the dark hull, the monkey waited for, in Jack Sparrows own words, the opportune moment.  


*Port Royal Fort*

Norrington tried to focus on his job. It was only midmorning and he still needed to prepare the Dauntless and its new accompanying ship, the Enthrall for their voyage to England. It was only to be a five month journey; Norrington was to accompany the royal trade ship, the Allay, from the rendezvous at Singapore to Norway and back. But that in itself would be uneventful. The Allay was sailing in from the Americas with the premature land's still plentiful wood and harvest, and since there were no truly expensive items on board, Norrington suspected it was to be a dull journey indeed. 

However, now the Enthrall was accompanying his flagship instead of the Interceptor and that threw once again into sharp focus, the losses that he had sustained within the last weeks. 

He had been able to steer away from Elizabeth and the blacksmith and indeed hadn't seen either of them since the escape of Sparrow. But that would only be a matter of time. Elizabeth had already written him an invitation to her wedding, as well as an additional letter expressing the more painful fact that the invite had not been an accident. Luckily, this trip would eliminate a need for an excuse to not arrive. 

But why would he want to return to Port Royal at all? There really was nothing here for him at all. True enough the town was beautiful, and for the majority of the time peaceful, but there were several such places. In Port Royal there was pain, not brutally so, but more of the dull heavy heartedness that could drive a man to madness. 

Though Norrington's mind had slipped from task, his conscience had not completely left the present. Norrington was well aware of Gillette's eyes and so continued to pretend mapping a way to Singapore. "Lieutenant," Norrington called, more to ease Gillette's mind than actually know, "How long before the Enthrall and Dauntless are to be ready?"

"The Enthrall is waiting upon the load to the Dauntless, sir," Gillette answered, appeased at Norrington's apparent concentration. "There is only a full load of water left, most of the food is stored within the Enthrall."

"How long until we can set sail?"

"I would say an hour and a half, sir."

Norrington nodded. A short time in the matter of things. He was ashamed to admit he would be happy to go.


	5. Continuing Furry Glitch

When the letter from the Governor arrived at the shop, Will was in all hasten to leave. The fire was still burning in the hearth and Mr. Brown still laid drunkenly draped across his chair. But this was of no matter to Will. Elizabeth was ill. 

He had known something was wrong and had refused to believe his own common sense. But what could he do now? What could he have done differently? For both questions the answer was nothing.

He didn't care that he was in his work clothes as he ascended the steps to the Governor's mansion and he ignored the odd look from the butler. Instead of waiting for his escort to lead him to the room, he rushed up the stairs, leaving the maid rushing after him. 

Elizabeth smiled weakly when he opened the door.

The Governor was seated on a chair at her side and looked up upon Will's arrival 

"Mr. Turner…" he said, stumbling when he realized the boy's attire. "...I'm glad you've arrived. I'm afraid if you had taken any longer, Elizabeth would have tried to send for you herself."

Will found it hard to force a small smile onto his concerned face.

After a short nervous sigh, the Governor stood. "Well, perhaps I should leave you alone for a moment. Duty shallnt be content on hold forever." He said before slowly leaving.

"Elizabeth," Will muttered as soon as the doorway was empty. He rushed to her side. 

"Will, it is nothing. Just a cold. The doctor said so himself."

Patting her forehead gently, he said, "I know, but after the terror you gave me yesterday, I can't make myself believe anything but the worst."

Elizabeth closed her eyes, still smiling. "Well, now that you're here I can get some rest." She peeked at him under heavy eye lids. "I'll be better, you'll see."

Will could only nod as he petted her softly to sleep.

-On The Black Pearl-

By the morning Jack was back to his old, rather drunk self of his, and Anamaria, completely recovered from her previous scare the night before, was again tired of him.

"Tortuga..." Jack mumbled to another half-wit, "has never let me down...if all ports in the world were like that one...no one would ever be unwanted...OR sober!" Jack's company laughed knowingly and Anamaria rolled her eyes.

"Gibbs," Anamaria asked when the old man fumbled away from the group. "Where are we to be headed. Sparrow hadn't breathed a word of it to me."

"Ah..." He breathed as he came. "As far as I be knowin' we're headed to Atlantis. Hadn't breathed a word ta anyone bout where we be goin next. Suppos' he talk ta you first, seein as how you be the first mate and all."

Anamaria snorted a laugh. "Sparrow would no more have me as his first mate than hand the Pearl over to Barbosa. The only reason I inherited the tittle was on the count he stole my boat then caused Barbosa and them to blow up my ship."

Gibbs chuckled and took a sip from his canteen. "Don't you fret." He told her. "Bad luck aside, we didn't have much to go on with the Interceptor. It would have only been a matter of time before the Pearl had caught us up."

There was a few moments of silence between them, during which Jack came up with another round of his impeccable song. It was around the first chorus of "yo, ho"s that Anamaria decided to put a stop to it.

"Hey Sparrow!" Anamaria shouted. He turned around and Anamaria motioned for him to come.

The men finally filtered to their own business and Jack stumbled up. 

"We've been sailin for near a day now, mind telling me where in the heavens or hell we're going?" Anamaria was trying very hard to be patient.

Jack thought hard with a finger on his chin. "Oh yes," he finally said. "I remember now...We're going...rhm, we're going to..."

Anamaria stepped closer menacingly, hands tightly clenched in ready to punch fists.

Jack nodded, his whole body going through one exaggerated system of motion. "We're going to Singapore."

Anamaria relaxed in awe. "Singapore?"

Again, Jack nodded. "Yes, Singapore. I've known ever since that one incident with the boat," He slowly lowered his voice for the last part but perked up again, "that you had wanted to sail there. So...I thought...what the bloody hell? Everyone there has deep pockets and the like. 'Be fun for the whole crew."

"Darling?" Jack said after a while, still clearly drunk. "Be a love and go down to the hold and bring me up some nice rum...and not the bloody old stuff...the good Caribbean stuff...I hid it down there somewhere. Feel free to take a bottle...but not a full bottle...just a half a one, cuz you're only first mate...which is like half a captain...so you only get half the stuff...I get whole stuff..." He fell forward and slid down out of Anamaria's grasp and on to the floor. "Yo ho...hmyo...'sa pirates life..."

Anamaria slammed the hold's door shut.

"Furmiff." Even through the wood, she could still hear him.

Still, she wasn't too mad. Singapore might have been a good long ways away, but like Sparrow had said, she had wanted to go. Sparrow had foiled her previous plans of earning a living on a trading ship and yet, being first mate on a ship as beautiful as the Black Pearl had made up for most of that....although Jack himself was another matter entirely.

It had taken her approximately thirty minutes to filter through all the boxes, crates and barrels to finally find what Jack had sent for. It was all the way in the back of the hold. Anamaria tugged at the crates lid.

A screech flew in from the shadows and landed on Anamaria's arm. She felt four, rather sharp objects chew through her sleeves. Cursing the ghost, she grabbed the furry thing with a strong grip and ripped the beast from her arm. It was still screaming when she drug it into the light.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" She said, half angry and half distressed. She flew up to the deck, trying to hide the loud annoying monkey and keep it from twisting free. She stomped to the edge of the boat muttering, "I'll have no more of this..." and flung the evil animal out into the sea. Satisfied only when she saw him hit the water far enough out so he couldn't swim back to the sailing ship did she actually return to the hold. Stupid monkey, she thought. If only the real Jack were that easy to get rid of. 

Laughing she returned to the prone Jack. He was still singing when she handed him the bottle. She decided to be contented with the fact that his new toy would shut him up for the next few minutes, or if she was lucky he would pass out for the next few hours.

She turned out to be very lucky.


	6. The Path Revealed

Will anxiously set down his tools. Another day had passed and Elizabeth had not gotten any better. Will didn't want to leave her alone for very long and had rushed much of his work. Luckily, he hadn't made big enough mistakes that his employers would notice.

He threw his tools aside, not bothering to put them completely away and threw his apron over the empty chair. Mr. Brown had left already. Will rushed to the door, lifted the lock, and...

"What are you doing?"

Will jerked back to prevent himself from tripping over the woman. His eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Why are you still here?" She asked again. Though he still just stared, she continued. "Do you not realize what's going on?"

Somewhat over his near heart attack, Will managed to say, "What?"

The woman ignored him. "You're running out of time. Elizabeth won't last."

Will stopped himself from asking again 'what are you talking about' when the woman spoke of Elizabeth. The grave seriousness of the woman's words frightened him. Who was she?

He took but a moment to look at her. She was tall he realized. They saw eye to eye though he was standing on the second step of the shop; thin and elegant despite her commoner's cloths. Her eyes were near black, as was her hair which was short, barely curling round her chin.

"You don't know what I'm talking about do you?" she finally concluded with a sigh and a shake of the head. "Follow me, I will do the best that I can." She saw the reluctance in his face as he glanced up to the Governor's mansion. "You cannot help her by simply being present. If you want to save her, you need to follow me."

It was a close decision, but Will finally agreed.

The pair walked down to the docks, then past them to the shore line. The area was deserted, but still the woman continued. It was precisely at the moment Will was going to ask where they were headed when she finally stopped. Port Royal was off in the distance, no one present but them.

"I am Dominuma," the woman finally said. "I know you have never heard of me, many have not. You don't need to ask any questions. I can only say what I can as clearly as I can." The sun was setting over the horizon and when she turned towards him, the sun profiled her figure, making it difficult to see her face.

"You're world is under an evil eye. I cannot tell you whose. Elizabeth is the key to his power, and you cannot protect her here. The same spell that overtook your blood has arisen again this time...in one named Jack."

Dominuma nodded when recognition showed on Will's face. She continued. "The curse through Jack has the ability to walk among men. It seeks its minions by the blood shed for the curse and sustains it with its gold. The curse knows Elizabeth and so seeks her, but because she does not hold its gold he cannot claim her spirit yet. This is why she is ill. She is in a battle, her soul against his." There was a long pause. "She will fail."

Will tried to say something, but Dominuma stopped him with one wave of her hand. "The only way you can protect her, is to return the old curse to the chest. To do that you must find Jack and force the return of his peice. That will prevent any harm to Elizabeth and you."

Faster than Will could ask 'what about me?' The woman placed her hand on his forehead. The world spun but when Will opened his eyes again, he was back at the shop, the sun not yet touching the horizon. Trying to control his breathing, Will looked around, but could find no sign of the woman. Confused and more pessimistic than ever, Will slowly headed to the Governor's mansion where he learned that Elizabeth had been slipping in and out of consciousness. It was indeed a failing struggle.

**_Singapore_**

Anamaria once again watched as the crewmen galloped on shore. Another port to them meant another bank to raid, another woman to fondle and another drink to chug. It was sickening.

It was later in the evening, and so naturally Jack Sparrow headed towards one of the more rowdy bars. The lighting was poor, the floors stained with beer and rum, and the tables and chairs were old and beaten. It had indeed been a long time since he had come to this Port, and he wasn't really sure why.

A woman stood amongst a crowd of drunk men. Jack noticed that none of the gents were even remotely as nice as he was. Nice looking anyway.

He made no effort to pretty up his walk as Jack approached the crowd; he didn't feel he needed to. "Now, now, fellows," Jack started to say, "There is no need to crowd around this nice lady friend...why don't you all go back to your drinks."

There was some mumbling, but the drunks were so disillusioned by their alcohol they obeyed. The woman turned around confused and frustrated at lost business expecting to find some new sailor who thought he was hot stuff. However, once she got a good look at Jack, her eyes narrowed for a moment. Jack smiled at her and her eyes widened.

What felt like a ton of bricks slammed up against Jack's face when she slapped him. After the initial daze caused by the blow, he thought. "Now, I can't remember if I deserved that one..." he mumbled trying to think back to the last time he was here.

"You!" The blonde said angrily. "I must admit, I had not thought I'd see the likes of you here. Not after that you pulled."

"I don't know what you mean love," Jack said. This woman was too young to have seen him ten years ago. By the looks of her, she was not near thirty. "I don't remember seeing you before."

"No..." She said hands on her hips, "but I remember you clear enough. I was eighteen then, you fake, you do indeed remember. You may have not seen my face but I saw you run out of the confessionary and got a clean look at you once the reds came through."

Confessionary...Jack winced in realization, he tried a smile. "Oh that...well um...I didn't tell anyone your little secret or anything...Besides...I don't remember who you did...that...to...anyway."

So filled with rage, she slapped him again.

"I deserved that...But you don't know how hard it is to be a cleric..."

Again he was slapped.

Weakly, he smiled, pointing to the door. "I think I'll just go."

The woman jutted her hip to one side and racked her fingers across her thigh, when Jack finally turned around, she turned back to the drunks, who had paid little to no attention to the scene. Jack walked back out and sighed. "Guess ten years isn't enough for forgiveness...or repentance." Absent minded, Jack hobbled to the next bar.

Though Anamaria had not seen the encounter, she had seen a rather sober Jack exit a pub within three minutes of entering. Not quite sure if it would be safe for Jack to be wandering the streets of Singapore alone undrunk, she decided to follow him. She walked down the gangplank.

She didn't see the creature following her.


	7. A Speady Journey

Several days had passed in which Will had lost all hope for Elizabeth's situation. It was clearly an uphill battle and she was getting weaker by the hour.

Will had all but abandoned his work at the shop. Mr. Brown, however, hardly noticed that the profits were plummeting. Will didn't care anymore. He didn't care about anything but Elizabeth.

Two nights ago, Elizabeth had fallen into a coma. She had woken up that morning and Will had the privilege of shooing her nurse off to feed her himself. But she had slipped off again, and Will was unsure whether it was just sleep or...

He didn't allow himself to think about what would happen if she didn't wake up.

Will sat alone with Elizabeth in her room. The door was open and the windows. Will had hoped fresh sea air would help, but he had no way of telling. He sat at Elizabeth's bedside, in a cushioned but uncomfortable chair, resting his face in his hands.

The door creaked.

"Marie, we don't need anything. I'm sure the Governor would not be upset if you left early," Will said addressing the nurse.

"You're still here," a new but familiar voice told him.

Will stiffened, then spun round in his chair.

"If I didn't know better, I would think you wanted her to die," Dominuma said.

The mysterious woman was clothed as a maid carrying a tray of tea. She was petite, but kept the short dark hair and striking figure. She set the tray on the side table and poured him a cup. They both were silent.

Will rejected the offer of tea, but Dominuma pressed. "Marie would be insulted if you didn't."

"What do you want?" Will asked taking the cup.

"Want?" Dominuma was surprised. "I want something no one has dared offered. It is you who want something and your window of opportunity is narrowing, if it is not already to late."

"All I want is Elizabeth's health."

"And you have the power to ensure that."

"How?"

Stiffening and clearly annoyed, Dominuma answered, "I already told you."

Will sighed. "Tell me."

"Find Jack and make him return the Aztec gold before he gives it to someone else."

"What will that do?"

"Humans are hard of hearing aren't they?"

Will cut off a retort. He was still unsure of who this woman was, but her word choice was odd if anything. "Not so much as you might think." He thought awhile. "Not many people know of the curse of Cortez and from what you've said you're not human. So what are you?"

"I am Dominuma."

Will laughed in frustration. "I know you're name but that doesn't answer the question."

Dominuma glared at him. It took Will only a few seconds before realizing he hadn't taken a sip of tea. Once he did, Dominuma spoke.

"You're right. I am not who I led you to believe and I know the curse better than any mortal being...because I created it."

"You started this?" Will glanced at Elizabeth. "You're a god," he whispered.

"Goddess, if you don't mind."

"Then you must know how to stop this curse. You made it didn't you. Why can't you just lift the curse-"

"I already did." Dominuma snapped. "It didn't work. While in the depth of the inferno Cortez struck a deal with the wretched demons who control the fiery abyss giving him the power of hell. It is Cortez's curse now and no god nor goddess in the heavens can stop it. Cortez has found a way to control mortal beings, through the gold."

"So all I have to do is make Jack give up the gold," Will stated, watching Elizabeth's shallow breathing. He looked up to Dominuma, who had already gathered her tray. "And that will save her."

"If 'all' were all it was." Dominuma took his tea cup from him and placed it on the tray.

Will returned his gaze to Elizabeth and wished he didn't have to leave her.

"I'll go," he finally said and jumped out of his chair.

"Go where, sir?"

Will stopped and turned around.

"I'm sorry. I must have day dreamed. Did you already have some tea?" Marie asked, confused as she looked down at the used porcelain.

"Yes..." Will glanced around. "Tell the Governor that I must leave. I think I just found a way to help."

"Um...yes sir..." Marie watched as Will nearly ran out of the mansion. "Certainly a fine man miss," she said to Elizabeth, before taking the tray back down to the kitchen.


	8. The Rum

The dusk at Singapore was beautiful and did much to lift Norrington's spirit. After three days journey, they had finally arrived. They would have two days approximately before the Allay would arrive, enough time to prep the Enthrall for another long journey. The new ship had done well though no ship would ever be able to match the Interceptor. A dull pang hit the Commodore in the gut. He had loved that ship and…

He shifted his thoughts. The three day sail had done him good. He hadn't thought about…since he had left. What was the problem with land? It seemed that even the worst of storms brought Norrington more joy than his memories. He only hoped that the journey would do him more good than it already had. Maybe he would be able to forget. Everything.

A Tavern in Singapore

Jack didn't like people. He hadn't before, and he didn't now. He clung to his treasure and a second.

But Captain Jack on the other hand, loved people. Women, that was. And he had found him some grand company. Her name was Christine. A small breasted woman, perhaps, but her beautiful face was just too tempting to pass up. She seemed willing enough, and was kind enough to have served him two pints of Caribbean rum. What a woman.

"So what about you being a captain of your own ship I hear…CAPTAIN Sparrow?" Christine asked resting her head on Jack's shoulder.

Drunkenly, Jack smirked. "Well luv…you see," he gripped his glass in one hand, and began motioning wildly with the other. "I always liked rum and well…a ship just seemed to get some more…and you know women always like captains…pretty women…like you. I did it for the attention."

Obviously, Christine thought Jack to be sober enough to create such a story to flatter her, when in all reality that was the absolute truth. He did want to become a captain for the women. It had later evolved into other, more serious reasons, but the motives of a nineteen-year-old were pretty standard.

Jack scampered closer.

"And the RUM!" Jack continued. Christine laughed. "The rum always came-"

He was going to make it this time…

Captain Jack gripped his head in pain. "Ah…"

"Oh, darling," Christine told him, stealing his glass. "I think you've had quite enough." She stroked his cheek soothingly.

Dark images swept through Sparrow's head. Pits of flame erupted about the room, the ceiling turned into red clouds and ash. It was hard to breathe. There were demons surrounding him and one that looked strangely like...

"What's wrong?" a voice scratched within the depths of Sparrows mind. He turned. Sitting right beside him was the most terrifying creature he had ever seen. It looked like a woman, but her eyes were wholes, her hair full of snakes. Her ugliness stopped his heart.

"Death to the demon..." Jack muttered under his breath as he stood and drew his sword.


	9. Bad Luck

Anamaria was furious that she had lost him. 'Damn that Jack Sparrow,' she thought, 'he needs to be leashed to the Pearl to keep him out of trouble.'

She had in fact searched several taverns to no avail. She didn't have Jack's taste in pub's either, which did little to help the matter, but she finally came to one that instantly made her think of her idiot captain and she uneagerly stepped in.

The usual blundering boobs floundered around in their drinks. Whores everywhere, most of them about as pretty as their male counterparts. The whole display was quite sickening. In the middle of it all was Jack gripping his forehead with a pint in hand...and one of the only pretty women soothingly stroking his cheek.

Rolling her eyes, Anamaria pulled her hat low over her brow and walked over to the bar. She was about to order a drink when a high pitched squeal shot bullets into her brain. She turned to see what on earth could create such a pathetic sound-

"JACK!" Anamaria hollered as she rushed forward, drawing her dagger. 'What is he thinking?'

She swung her dagger just in time to meet Jack's sword, the other woman cowering in fear. Jack turned his blank expression on Anamaria.

"Jack, snap out of it!" She said, for the first time actually concerned about Jack's mental health problem. He pulled his sword out of her block and was preparing, she knew, to strike at her. She punched him and he fell.

Anamaria shook her head at the unconscious Jack and looked up.

Her jaw dropped.

"You..." she muttered cynically under her breath. Then she noticed what the creature was holding.

It ran.

"Stupid monkey," Anamaria grunted as she chased after it.

A TRADERS SHIP

It wasn't easy finding a trading ship heading to Tortuga from Port Royal, but with a bit of eavesdropping and trickery, Will had found it. The captian had originally wanted twenty shillings for the passage, but again, Will had managed to negotiate it to nine, by claiming he would help with sails. He did, but the work was far from difficult. Now he was able to just wait.

And worry.

He hated leaving Elizabeth. Dreaded it. Loathed it. The knot in his stomach had only grown since he left, knotting every muscle.

Even the sea churned his stomach. He gasped as a hot flash over took his body.

"This is getting out of hand," he told himself. He stumbled back slightly when a headache exploded in his brain. He clenched his jaw and eyes shut as he tried to massage the pain away. Then he heard her distant voice.

"Will..."

Despite the pain he opened his eyes and searched for her.

The ship was aflame. The crew were demons.

Coughing in shock, Will whirled back around to the side of the ship. The ocean was a sea of lava and distantly, above a cave of flame and ash, stood Elizabeth, chained to the rock walls, bleeding and in agony.

In a moment, everything was gone. Except for the tension the heavy breathing, everything was gone. Will spun, making sure that everything was back to normal, and excepting the confused stares everything was...and Elizabeth was nowhere in sight.

He leaned up against the rail with both hands and focused on trying to steady his breathing. 'It was just a-'

"That wasn't a dream William."

Dropping his head, he recognized the voice. He turned.

"What was it then?" He asked Dominuma.

She approached him and stood beside him, looking out to the water.

"Hell," she stated matter of factly.

Will swallowed, the pit of fear in his stomach suddenly growing.

"Is that where...where," he tried to ask.

"No, Elizabeth isn't there yet." Dominuma soothed. "What you saw, was where she is being sent to...and where you are being sent right now."

"What?!"

"You are William Turner, son of William Bootstrap Turner, the one who took the Aztec Gold, the gold that is now hunting everyone who ever held the medallion, Will you are on Cortez's list."

"But Elizabeth didn't take one."

"Elizabeth had it when she wasn't supposed to...for ten years. She has a direct link, even a red flag because of it. The gold is separated from you by a death, first it must conquer that, before it can drive you into a state similar to Elizabeth. And with a vision like the one you just had, it looks like its not too far off."

Will tried to understand, but everything just became a big swirling vortex of craziness. "How much time do I still have."

"It depends. How long can you fight it?"

Will exhaled. "Great."

"Well that's encouraging."

"Can't you stay and help me then? You criticize me but you don't stick around."

"I can't stay. The only way I can talk to you is by taking time away from someone else. Right now I'm the captain of this ship and I can't and will not steal people away from their lives. First of all that's violating free will and I loose my power. That and I can die."

"But you're a God." He yelled then corrected himself. "Goddess."

"But even we have our limits. You're on your own as far as the journey goes. I can only direct you," she said as she backed off the rail.

"Then tell me where am I supposed to GO?!"

"Umm..." an old man's voice said. Will turned around to face the ship's captain. "I'm sorry," the captain said. "I'm not sure if I said anything that insulted you...I didn't think I said anything, really."

"Sorry, I was talking to myself," Will tried to explain.

"Oh." The old man nodded, very confused, and attempted a smile before walking off.

"She needs to tell me when she does that," Will muttered under his breath as he turned back to the sea.


	10. Running Scared

As the night grew older, Norrington found the city of Singapore even more delightful. He no longer could remember off the top of his head what had weighed his spirits before, though he feared that thinking about it would rebirth his pain.

It was remarkable how lively the town was. It wasn't wild, but festive. Young men and women watched the night sky, some of the elder children played, as their mothers tried to herd them inside to sleep. There were lamps everywhere. Congregations of elders sat around the lamp light telling stories, the gents playing cards and smoking while the women knitted. It was the first time Norrington had paid attention to the night scene with lifted spirits. He had always thought the night to be quite lonely.

But he was still aboard the Dauntless, cooped up in a ship. "Gillette!" The Commodore called. The younger man skipped up.

"Yes sir?"

"Why don't we gather the men off duty and stroll the town, shall we?" Norrington's lieutenant was shocked. "After all," Norrington said, "even sailors need some tavern time."

Gillette was very much pleased with the Commodore's gay mood and finally was beginning to see the return of his old friend. "Absolutely sir." He said before running off.

Norrington smiled. No more worrying, he thought to himself. It's time to take the next step.

SHORTLY AFTER

Anamaria was sick and tired of this stupid mess. That damned monkey needed to go, and that stupid treasure he was always carrying around should have been melted years ago.

She had been able to follow the damn thing for awhile, and she knew the thing was wasting time. They were going in circles.

She followed the darting creature into another alley. When she had escaped the crowd, she was pleased to see that she had gained significant ground. So close.

However, he scurried up a barrel at the far end of the alley and stopped. This was her chance.

She carefully approached and lunged.

The monkey jumped.

When Anamaria stood, she looked up and saw a very familiar man. He watched her carefully, knowing full well who she was. Then his eyes shifted down. Anamaria followed his glance. There, in full view, was her bare wrist, and a brand.

Anamaria didn't wait for the Commodore to say a word before she bolted down the alley once more, hearing several followers chase her.


End file.
